


Just Bad Teachers

by Everything_is_Temporary



Series: breath through it [1]
Category: Karate Kid (Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, canon-typical John Kreese behavior, some minor depictions of violence and medical practices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:09:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29907804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everything_is_Temporary/pseuds/Everything_is_Temporary
Summary: Bobby scrambled back, hands over his mouth, like if he could just put a little distance between himself and the situation he'd see it couldn't possible be what it looked like. Couldn't possibly be real. Daniel understood the impulse. Until now these boys had seemed like something out of a nightmare. Now they were just boys. Just Bobby and Johnny. Bobby was screaming, and Johnny was... was...Or:Daniel and Mr. Miyagi don't head out from the tournament right away. By the time they get to the parking lot, Johnny's not moving.
Relationships: Bobby Brown & Johnny Lawrence, Daniel LaRusso & Johnny Lawrence, Daniel LaRusso & Mr. Miyagi, Daniel LaRusso/Johnny Lawrence
Series: breath through it [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2206644
Comments: 23
Kudos: 136





	1. Chapter 1

There was a medic armed with a roll of ace bandages waiting for Daniel when he got back to the locker rooms. He hadn't really anticipated that, though maybe he should've. 

The medic was nice guy, congratulatory over the win and all, though a bit chatty even by Daniel's standards.

"Hey, where'd you learn that kick move you used at the end there?" He asked, as he tested Daniel's range of motion in the leg, and "You know my nephew's real big into Karate, would you mind signing something for him?" as he fastened the wrap shut. By the time Daniel got outa there with a handshake and a "see ya around" most people seemed to have cleared out, Ali and his ma being amongst them. He tried not to feel a little bereft at that. 

Mr. Miyagi, at least, was waiting for him by the exit.

"Sent mother home, she very proud of you."

"Yeah I'll bet." Daniel scoffed, but Mr. Miyagi put a hand on his shoulder and smiled.

"I very proud too, Daniel-san. Fought with honor." 

And dammit, maybe that did make him feel a bit better. Sue him. 

So it wasn't in the highest possible spirts he walked out into the parking lot- his knee was still pretty busted even with the medic's best efforts, and it would've been nice if the girl who started this whole karate battle coulda stuck around to see if her hero was still standing afterwards, but he was feeling pretty damn good. He won the fight, got the girl, and even got a grudging show of respect from Johnny Lawrence himself at the end of it. All in all, things were starting to look up. 

Which is why he wasn't all that surprised to hear shouts of "Sensei please, he can't breath, you're gunna kill him" coming from a few cars away. Nothing in California had been easy so far, why should that change now. 

He wasn't even really surprised to look over and see the Cobra Kai group responsible for the shouting. That too seemed to fit pretty well of the pattern of what Daniel's life had become since leaving the east coast. Well, some of the Cobras, anyway. That kinda wild one, Dutch, and one other who Daniel really couldn't have guessed the name of seemed to be MIA, and as Daniel watched the smallest of the group (Tommy? Maybe?) took off as well. 

What was surprising was Johnny. Johnny, head hanging low with his blonde fringe falling like a curtain over his eyes. Johnny, hands tugging loosely at his sensei's arms and then falling still. Johnny, with John Kreese's arm fixed tight around his neck. 

The Cobra still hanging around gave another ineffective tug on Kreese's elbow, shouting something about how this was too much, but Kreese caught him with a backhand across the face and the kid went down hard. 

Johnny wasn't struggling anymore. He wasn't a small guy, especially compared to Daniel, but with Kreese's arm notched around his neck like that... 

Daniel was still gawking when Mr. Miyagi entered the fray. That sent him scrambling over, as fast as he could manage without putting weight on his injury. 

Mr. Miyagi didn't bother with words, just grabbed Kreese by the arm, then the back and shoved. As Kreese spun around to face Mr. Miyagi again he let go of Johnny, who dropped like a sack of flower to the ground. When Kreese put his fists through the windows of the two adjacent cars Daniel watched glass fall on either side of Johnny's body, littering across his jacket. Johnny made no move to get up or brush it away, even after Kreese took off. Just lay there amongst the shards. 

Daniel found himself gravitating towards the blonde boy laid out on the pavement. There was no love lost between the two of them, sure, but that was... that had been brutal to watch. And Johnny still wasn't moving.

Mr. Miyagi seemed to have the same idea. He bent down by Johnny's head and pressed two fingers beneath the boy's nose. Checking for breathing, Daniel realized with a start. There were a few long seconds where it felt like the whole world froze over, and then- 

No one needed to say anything. Daniel watched Mr. Miyagi's shoulders fall, and felt his own stomach bottom out in tandem. No. No, there was no way. But Daniel looked at Johnny's chest, saw how still it was- the total absence of a rise and fall. Christ, he was gunna be sick. 

The other Cobra, the only one who hadn't taken off (Bobby? His name might've been Bobby, though Daniel hadn't payed him much mind as anything other than Johnny's backup until he'd taken out his knee in the semi finals round) hadn't caught on yet. He was sitting a few feet away, stalled halfway through the process of picking himself up. 

"Johnny?" He called, "Johnny, c'mon man, get up let's go." When Johnny didn't answer he looked warily between Daniel and Mr. Miyagi, then back to where Johnny lay prone on the pavement.

"What's wrong, he get knocked out or something?" Daniel couldn't get the words out, couldn't do anything but stare. Then Bobby met his eyes, and whatever he saw there must have been enough because suddenly he was screaming. He scrambled back, hands over his mouth, like if he could just put a little distance between himself and the situation he'd see it couldn't possible be what it looked like. Couldn't possibly be real. Daniel understood the impulse. Until now these boys had seemed like something out of a nightmare, now they were just boys. Just Bobby and Johnny. Bobby was screaming, and Johnny was... was...

It wasn't entirely a conscious decision that sent Daniel to the ground. Honestly, in retrospect he would have to admit it was the pain of his leg injury more than anything- combined with a helpless, desperate need to do something, anything, to make this situation anything other than what it was. 

Daniel had taken a CPR class at the Y once back in Jersey, just to have something to do. He hadn't taken it all that seriously at the time but now- kneeling beside Johnny with the grit of the parking lot pavement digging into his knees- god he wished he'd paid more attention. 

His hands shook where he knotted them over Johnny's chest. What was the number? Fifteen? Fifteen compressions for every two breaths. That sounded right. 

Bobby was crying. Shouting things too- at Johnny, at Daniel, at God, maybe, Daniel wasn't too clear on the particulars. He tried to focus on that, and not the feel of Johnny's ribs straining under him. The give of Johnny's sternum beneath his hands- it tore a sound from Daniel's chest, half sob half gag, but he kept going. 13 and 14 and 15, he slotted his mouth over Johnny's, pinched his nose close and breathed. Once, then again. Nothing. Come on Johnny, gimme something. 

Back to compressions then. One and two and- 

A jerk, a sputtering cough and a grasp of air. Johnny's chest arched up- a spasm more than a conscious movement but Daniel was willing to work with the momentum. He got an arm under him, grabbed a fistful of that red leather jacket and rolled Johnny to the side. Recovery position, he thought it might've been called. The name didn't really matter half as much in that moment as Johnny's continued wheezing into the pavement. Daniel put a hand on his back, let his thumb drift back and forth in a motion he hoped was comforting.

"Hey man, you're okay. You're doing okay, alright, just... breath. Keep breathing, alright?" 

Daniel slumped against one of the two cars bracketing them in, sparing a brief thought for the paint job but then he figure... well... considering the busted window Kreese's fist left behind, whoever owned this car was gunna have bigger problems. With the adrenaline wearing off he could feel each hot throb of his battered knee like a second heartbeat, and he was just so... so tired. He kept his hand against Johnny's back though. Couldn't bring himself to let that fall away. 

Bobby, who'd been sitting stock still like a deer in headlights since Johnny first started moving, seemed all at once shocked into motion. He pulled his own jacket off, cursing when one arm got caught in the sleeve, and balled it under Johnny's head. Probably smart, not to leave his face smushed against the gravel. Daniel thought he could have been forgiven for not thinking of it earlier though, considering what his other priorities had been. 

"Thank you," Bobby whispered, sounding as tired as Daniel felt, "I didn't know... He could've... just, thank you. Thank you."

"Daniel-san, boy needs medical attention." Mr. Miyagi, still crouched opposite Johnny, looked pointedly to where Daniel was slowly trying to leverage his knee into a less agonizing position, "So do you." 

Daniel shrugged "I'm alright, they wrapped it up real good in the locker room, I'm fine." But Mr. Miyagi only spared him a less than impressed glance before turning to Bobby.

"We take your friend to car. I drive." 

Bobby nodded, stoic and a little shell shocked. He pulled Johnny up and slung one arm across his shoulders, then with Mr. Miyagi's help struggled to his feet. Johnny, for his part, hung like a rag doll, suspended between the two. He was breathing though. The pained rasp of air moving in and out was a marked improvement from the stillness and silence of earlier. Daniel found himself counting the beats of it- in out, in out, one two, one two, almost like music. 

It took him a bit of effort to get standing, bracing himself against the side of a strangers car the whole way up, but Daniel managed. Holding Johnny up seemed like a two man job, so neither Bobby or Mr. Miyagi had a free hand to offer him. Daniel hobbled along begins them the whole way to the car. He watched Johnny's blonde head bob as each step jostled him. It was okay. Everything would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So CPR fun fact, the guideline is actually 30 chest compressions and then two rescue breaths now, but before 2005 it was 15 to 2, so that's the ratio I went with for this. I took a CPR course in high school, but it's been a few years since then, and I will admit I probably wasn't paying all that much attention even at the time, so I am not a medical expert and if my depiction of CPR in this story was wrong I apologize
> 
> Next chapter: everybody goes to the hospital!


	2. Chapter 2

The car ride was awkward. Like really, truly, painfully awkward in a way that Daniel had not even the slightest idea how to begin to counteract.

Daniel was in the passenger seat, the toes on his injured leg crammed awkwardly into the very front of the footwell to try to keep from bending the knee too much. He would've taken the back to fully stretch it out, but... well.

Bobby sat on the drivers side, hunched all the way against the window like he was trying to make himself smaller. Johnny's head was pillowed in his lap. The rest of Johnny was sprawled across every remaining inch of available space in the back seat area. It would have been funny if it weren't so worrying.

Every so often Bobby would jostle Johnny's shoulder a bit and murmur some gentle reassurances. Daniel tried not to listen to those. It seemed private.

At least, Daniel told himself, as long as Bobby was back there with him they would know if Johnny stopped breathing again. He wasn't entirely sure what they would actually DO about it while doubling the speed limit on a four lane highway, but they would know.

He kept telling himself that as he fought the urge to do something stupid, like turn around in the seat to stare, or reach out and feel for the pulse point on Johnny's wrist. With his track record the Cobras might take that as some kind of threat, and then where would they be. Sure, Johnny seemed to be phasing in and out of consciousness (and from the looks of it, more out than in) but Bobby could probably still manage to kick his ass, and Daniel wasn't willing to risk the tentative peace of the carpool.

If his hands hadn't stoped shaking since Johnny hit the ground... it's not like he was making it anyone else's business.

He almost didn't notice they'd reached the hospital until Mr. Miyagi was opening the car door.

"Daniel-san, you able to walk?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm all good." He fumbled with his seatbelt for a few useless minutes, until it came loose with a pop. A few deep breaths later he was on his feet, watching Bobby and Mr. Miyagi tug, lift, and prod a decidedly lose limbed Johnny Lawrence out of the back seat. This was the sort of thing that never would have happened to him in Jersey, he thought as they all shuffled towards the hospital doors. For starters, he didn't have a karate rivalry to worry about in Jersey.

Under the harsh fluorescence of the hospital lobby everything looked and felt so much worse than it had out in the parking lot. The ache of every bump and scrape was sharper than before, and for the first time Daniel was able to see the ring of mottled bruises beginning to darken around Johnny's neck.

That was really all he was able to see before the room was aflutter with nurses and paperwork and "it's standard practice, dear." And then he was being whisked away to a check up room, while Johnny was strapped to a gurney headed the opposite direction.

He glanced back over his shoulder as he was dragged off down a hallway of near, identical doors. Mr. Miyagi and Bobby were standing there. Mr. Miyagi exuded the same calm understanding of the situation that he seemed to buoy through life on, but Bobby... Bobby looked lost, and more scared than Daniel had ever seen any of the Cobras before tonight. Then the lobby doors swung shut behind him.

* * *

After what felt like hours of being poked and prodded, the doctor slapped a brace on his knee, wrote him a prescription for some pain killers he knew damn well their insurance was not gunna cover, and released him back to the lobby. He was tired. So beyond tired. All he really wanted to do was find Mr. Miyagi and go home.

What he found instead was Bobby (probably... there hadn't really been a good time to get clarification on the name).

Bobby was slumped in one of the waiting room chairs, head in his hands. He didn't look up when Daniel sat down next to him.

"So... you're still here?" Daniel winced, there were probably a few dozen less confrontational ways he could have put that. Well, he figured at least if Bobby punched him in the face he was in as good a place as any for getting a broken nose taken care of. But Bobby just nodded.

"Still waiting for news about Johnny." He said into his lap.

"Still?"

"Yeah. I don't... I mean, that's probably normal, right? If it was... if he was bad they would've said by now?"

"Yeah, probably." Daniel offered, as if he had any idea. "Hey, uh, you wouldn't happen to know where my sensei went, would you? I mean I know you got other stuff on your plate right now but-"

"Um, yeah. I think he went to go call your mom. Let her know what happened."

Daniel groaned. Honestly, he loved his Ma, but he really coulda done without her hearing the details of all this. She was a worrier. Having another person worried didn't really seem like the most helpful thing to have around at the moment.

That did, however, spark a question.

"Is there anyone we should call for you? Or... or for Johnny?"

Bobby seemed to curl a little further into himself at that. Daniel almost preferred when these guys were wailing on him. Almost.

"I... no- I mean... my parents think I'm at Johnny's house, and his mom thinks he's at mine. We were gunna go get drunk on the beach to celebrate... or, uh, that was the plan... before." He admitted sheepishly. "If we call Johnny's place now... we can't. Can't do that. We gotta wait until the morning when his mom will be the one getting the phone."

And that was... huh. That was something to file away for later examination. But for now there was the actually issue of finding Johnny some moral support to deal with. 

"Should we... I don't know, should we call your friends or something?" Daniel would really prefer not to be surrounded by Cobra Kai douchebags on all sides tonight, but that seemed like the kinda thing you do when someone's been hurt bad like that. Call their friends, have them all gather in the hospital room to wait and worry together.

"Shit. I guess, but I don't..." Bobby tipped his head back, scrubbing his hands through his hair, "I don't even know where Dutch and Jimmy are, Dutch was pissed after the tournament, so Jimmy took him aside to let off some steam. Don't even know where to start looking for them at this point. And Tommy ran to go get help when... when... you know, but I don't know where he went or- or anything. I don't know where he is. I don't know what to do."

Bobby covered his face, and Daniel did a decent job of pretending not to notice he was crying.

"Hey man, it's fine, we'll figure it out." If Bobby was bothered by Daniel's inclusion in "we", he didn't say so.

* * *

It was almost an hour later when a doctor came out looking for friends and family of one "Mr. John Lawrence". Mr. Miyagi still wasn't back yet, and Daniel was starting to suspect his conspicuous absence was an effort towards encouraging him and Bobby to talk. If that was his sensei's ploy it had been largely unsuccessful. After their initial exchange of words they'd lapsed into a tense silence, only broken by the way Bobby startled to attention any time the waiting room doors swung open.

Bobby, already on edge, jumped to his feet at the sound of Johnny's full given name. Daniel was a little slower on the uptake. He'd never actually heard him called "John" before, and it took a moment for the name to register.

"Are you family?" The doctor asked. There was sympathy in her tone, but it was the stretched, professional kind.

"I'm his brother," Bobby lied smoothly.

"I'm a... friend." Daniel offered, less smoothly. He startled himself a little with the deception. Bobby, though, didn't miss a beat. He placed a hand on Daniel's shoulder, careful not to put any weight behind it and risk upsetting his balance.

"He's here with me."

The doctor nodded, "your brother is sleeping now, you two can go back and see him, but I can't give you any details about his condition until your parents get here."

"Is he okay, though? Is he going to be okay?" There was an edge of desperation in Bobby's voice that the doctor clearly picked up on, because her face softened ever so slightly.

"He's going to be just fine."

"See, what'd I tell ya?" Daniel asked, bumping his shoulder against Bobby's. He was both surprised and relieved when Bobby smiled back.

They left a hastily scrawled post it note (provided by the ever helpful receptionist) with Johnny's room number and a quick explanation on Bobby's seat in case Mr. Miyagi came looking for them, then took off down the hallway.

Room 304 wasn't hard to find. It was, however, more walking than Daniel's newly braced knee was prepared for. By the time they made it to the late 200s he was limping noticeably, and Bobby was starting to cast vaguely constipated looks in his direction.

They were passing room 287 when Bobby said, "I'm really sorry. About your leg, I mean. That wasn't right. None of what we did to you was right."

They passed room 295 before Daniel said, "Yeah. I mean, thanks. Don't worry about it." And he was surprised to find he mostly meant it. Sure, he'd be walking funny for a month or so, and yeah it was at least half Bobby's fault, but after watching Kreese attempt a murder in the middle of a darkened parking lot nothing else really seemed quite so bad. Seeing Johnny lying flat on his back and unnaturally still on the pavement had put some things into perspective.

And then they were in front of room 304. Someone- a nurse, probably- had left the door wedged open. Inside Daniel could see a blonde head of hair propped on a pillow, nearly white under the fluorescents.

He could also see tubes. Tubes, wires, and a cluster of beeping, blinking machinery. Johnny had an oxygen mask secured over his mouth and nose, and an IV pushed into his forearm, which lay upturned overtop the white hospital blankets. There was a clip over his pointer finger that hooked him up to the heart monitor, which was beeping steadily beside the bed. Johnny had always been pale, at least by Daniel's Italian standards, but with his bruises darkening to nearly black it seemed like all other color had leached out of him. It wasn't just the bruises around his neck either. Around the perimeter of the oxygen mask his skin was blotching in yellows, purples and reds, and it seemed likely he was going to have at least one black eye. Those bruises Daniel knew he had put there. He refused to feel bad for it, not after everything Johnny had done to him, but he couldn't muster as much pride at the sight as he had after Johnny's post Halloween shiner.

He thought about turning around and going to find Mr. Miyagi. Johnny wouldn't notice one way or the other, and Bobby probably wouldn't mind, right? Only when he actually turned away from Johnny's room he found Bobby frozen in place three steps behind him, with no apparent intention of getting any closer.

"You know you can go in, right? You don't have to wait for permission." Daniel said, perhaps a bit hypocritically.

But Bobby started to shake his head, taking a few shuffling steps backwards.

"I can't. I can't do this. I can't go in."

Frankly, Daniel had reached his limit with all the things Bobby wouldn't or couldn't do.

He turned away from Bobby and marched into room 304, dragging one of the visitor chairs over to sit by Johnny's bedside. He took the hand not hooked up to the heart monitor and held it between both of his. He ran his thumb across Johnny's knuckles, still red and swollen from the tournament. Johnny's hand was wide, with rough callouses across the palm.

"What kinda rich boy has hands like that Johnny Lawrence," Daniel laughed, "I'll tell you what kind, the kind who thinks starting fights is a hobby. You know, when some people have that much free time they consider getting a job. Not you though. You took up punching as an extracurricular or something."

He could hear shuffling around the doorway behind him. Probably Bobby plucking up the courage to come inside, but he didn't turn around to check. He kept his eyes on Johnny, pulled his hand a little closer in, and kept talking.

"It's kinda hard to be mad at you for that right now, though. That's why you gotta hurry up and get better, so I can go back to being mad. Plus there are your friends to consider, you know? Seems like your buddies don't know what to do with themselves with you outa commission. Don't tell them I said so though, they could probably still beat me up. I mean, I kicked ass in that tournament and don't you forget it, but four on one with my knee all banged up isn't really a fair fight, you know? So if this could just stay between us I'd appreciate it."

"What... what are you doing?" That voice came from a bit closer than Daniel had anticipated.

Bobby was standing halfway between the door and the bed, like he wasn't sure which direction he should be running towards. His eyes flicked between Johnny and Daniel, never resting on Johnny for longer than a second. This boy really had looking lost down to an art form, though perhaps given the circumstance that was a little unfair.

Daniel looked back at Johnny. He studied the purple bruises fanning out under his eyelashes

"When my dad got sick," he started, keeping his voice carefully flat even as his chest started to tighten, "My mom and I would sit with him in the hospital. And he wasn't awake all the time, by the end he was barely ever awake at all. But the doctor said... the doctor told us to sit with him, to hold his hand, and just to talk to him. Didn't matter what we were talking about, just... just so he would know he wasn't alone."

Daniel tipped his head back and blinked away the stinging in his eyes, taking a few deep breaths to compose himself, "hospitals are scary, alright. They're scary for the visitors, sure. You're worried about someone you care about- you're allowed to to be kinda freaked, I get it. But it's way scarier for the patients. You can't leave him to tough this out on his own. You just gotta stay with him, let him know you're here, and that he's gunna be okay."

Daniel could feel Bobby staring, felt like holes burning their way into the back of his neck and he instinctively hiked his shoulders up. Eventually there was shifting, sounds of movement, and a second chair being dragged across the floor.

Bobby sat down beside Daniel, and busied his hands with picking at the edges of the neatly folded hospital blanket. For the first time since barging into Johnny's room Daniel started to feel a little weird about his position- being the one holding Johnny's hand and all. He thought about offering to switch, that would probably be the sensible thing to do.

He cleared his throat, "Uh, do you wanna... you know?" He could feel his ears going red- way to make it awkward, LaRusso.

But Bobby shook his head, "No... you're good at... at this. Please don't stop."

Well, alright then.

"You gotta talk to him too though," Daniel warned, "I can run my mouth all night if I have to, but I'd be willing to bet he'd much rather hear from you right now."

"Right... right."

The heart monitor's beeping felt even louder when the rest of the room was quiet, and the rasps of Johnny's oxygen mask seemed to echo. Daniel was brainstorming ways to gently prod Bobby into talking, when-

"Hey Johnny... you'll never guess how fast we were going on the way over here. That old guy who beat us up on Halloween should be driving for NASCAR or something."

Daniel couldn't help it, he started to laugh. Then Bobby did too. They sat there laughing like idiots until Daniel's chest ached with it.

"Alright," he admitted, once he caught his breath, "that was a start. Keep going."

The two of them took turns filling the silence until a nurse came in to inform them that visiting hours were over.


	3. Chapter 3

Nearly a week after the tournament Daniel was sitting in front of the TV with his leg propped up on the couch watching re-runs of Cheers when there was a knock at the door.

His ma went to get it, rushing off in a flurry of "don't even think about it baby, you stay right where you are". She'd been sorta hovering around him since he'd come home from the hospital- way too late at night and without the words to explain just what had happened in the hours following his win. She knew (courtesy of Mr. Miyagi's phone call) that there had been some kinda altercation in the parking lot after the match, that Daniel had been involved but was in no worse shape for it, and that there was more he wasn't telling her. 

He knew that hiding things from her made her nervous, but honestly the truth of what happened that night was so much worse than anything she could be imagining. Better to have her be a bit fussy until his leg healed up than to have her packing them up and moving cross country again in a panic. California had just started to grow on him.

"Daniel, sweetheart?" Daniel straightened and craned around so he could see to the door. His mom's voice was tense, and thin like a water reed. She stood with her shoulders squared and her back ridged. Her body blocked whoever stood outside from view. 

"There's a Johnny Lawrence here to see you, should I tell him to come back another time?" She asked, in that flinty, decidedly Newark way that suggested 'don't you dare come back at all'. 

Daniel sprung up from the couch, biting back a curse when he unthinkingly put weight on his injury. His mother had one hand on either side of the doorframe, so he was relegated to peering awkwardly around her shoulder. 

"Johnny, hey!" 

"Hey LaRusso," Johnny mumbled down to the concrete.

He had on a blue flannel, tucked into his jeans. The top three buttons were undone, exposing a white t-shirt and an assortment of dark bruises. His head was ducked down, soft blonde bangs flopping over his face, but through the curtain of hair Daniel could see wide blue eyes ringed in purples and reds. The bruises across his nose had faded to greens and yellows, concentrated on the bridge and fanning out from there. It was a real patchwork tapestry of injuries he had going on. He shuffled his feet, fingers curling nervously where they were hitched on his belt loops. 

Daniel pushed past his mother, ignoring her squawk of protest, and grabbed at the sleeve of Johnny's flannel. 

"Why don't you come on in," he said as he tugged Johnny over the threshold. "Don't mind us, Ma. We're gunna hang out in my room for a bit." 

"Oh," she sputtered as they brushed by her, "well, if you're sure." 

Johnny didn't say anything, just allowed himself to be led back to Daniel's bedroom. Come to think of it, Johnny really hadn't ever seemed like much of a talker, so the silence wasn't shocking. The passive obedience, though, was certainly novel. 

Daniel's room didn't have a lot in the way of seating. He released his hold of Johnny's shirt and plopped down onto his bed, back propped against his pillow. He then allowed himself a few immensely satisfying moments of watching Johnny squirm- shuffling from foot to foot with his arms crossed like he was trying not to touch or look at anything- before he rolled his eyes, and sat up to pat the foot of the bed. 

"You can sit down if you want. I know it's probably not up to your usual standards, but I promise we don't have bed bugs or anything." 

And hey, would you look at that- when Johnny blushed it somehow made the bruises less noticeable. Embarrassed was a surprisingly good look on him, one Daniel had to admit he wouldn't mind getting to see more often. 

The mattress creaked as Johnny sunk into it. He didn't look any more comfortable perched at the end of Daniel's bed as he had standing in the doorway, but hey, no one could say Daniel hadn't done his best to be hospitable. Johnny cleared his throat.

"Nice place," he offered, gesturing around. Daniel couldn't tell if he was saying it because he meant it or just in the absence of anything better to say, but either way there was no trace of mockery to it. Even if he had wanted to be condescending, it would have been hard to manage around the obviously pained rasp in his voice. 

"Is that what you came over for? To compliment the decor?"

"No." 

Daniel waited a couple minutes, but it seemed like no elaboration would be coming. He sighed.

"What are you doing here, Johnny?"

"...you were there, at the hospital." He said to his knees. Whatever skills Kreese was teaching at Cobra Kai, maintaining eye contact during conversations clearly wasn't one of them. 

"Sure was." 

"...you talked to me, while I was... you talked about your dad, and like... my friends and stuff. So I wouldn't be alone." 

"You remember all that?"

He smiled- a quick, sheepish quirk of the lip, and damn if that wasn't a good look on him too, "Bobby told me about most of it afterwards. I remember your voice, though. And someone holding my hand." 

Daniel didn't need a mirror to know his whole face was burning red. Fortunately Johnny's was too- misery loves company. 

"You holding up okay now?"

Johnny shrugged, then winced like he'd pulled something. "My throat's all jacked up, but... it's healing. Ribs are sore. Doctor says that's normal though."

"Your ribs?" He asked, with rising alarm. He tried to think back, what had Kreese done to Johnny's ribs?

"Um, from where you..." Johnny pressed his hand to the center of his chest, fingers splayed wide, "Apparently a lot of times people's ribs break during... I guess I got lucky, they're just bruised." 

Bruised.

Lucky. 

The words registered, but distantly, like there was cotton in his ears and Johnny's voice was passing through it. He remembered the parking lot. Remembered his shaking hands, crossed with the fingers interlocked over Johnny's chest. The way Johnny's whole body had jerked with each compression. The artificial rise of his chest as Daniel had forced air into his lungs.

Lucky. 

"Do you need some ice, for- yeah. Yeah, I'll go get some ice." 

"What- no?" Johnny sputtered, nearly toppling as Daniel sprung up from the bed, "I'm- No? Hey, where are you-" 

"You just stay right there, I'll be back with the ice." 

Daniel slammed the bedroom door behind him, limping into the kitchen with a single minded determination. His Ma was sitting on the couch now, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. 

"Everything alright with you boys?" She asked, falling painfully shy of casual. 

"Yeah we're all good. Johnny's chest is hurting him, I'm making up an ice pack." He focused on his hands- on keeping them steady. He broke half a tray of ice into a plastic bag, then wrapped it in a dishcloth. 

"You know, if you wanted him to leave-"

"Thanks Ma, but we're fine." 

And then there was nothing for it. He couldn't hesitate outside the doorway, not with his Ma right there and watching like a hawk for one good reason to toss Johnny right back out from whence he came. 

In Daniel's absence Johnny's face had lost most of it's frazzled bewilderment, and settled somewhere around mild affront. Daniel held his ice pack out like a peace offering.

"For your ribs." 

And then Johnny still looked affronted, but in a softer, slightly awed way. Daniel pressed the ice pack into his hands and Johnny allowed the intrusion.

"It's not that big a deal, LaRusso." 

Daniel scoffed as he lowered himself back into the bed, "yeah yeah macho man, enjoy your bruises." 

"No really, look." And then, in what was no doubt an astounding show of reasonable, logical thought, Johnny Lawrence was taking of his shirt.

"Whoa! Hey! What's the big idea there, mister-" 

"Will you shut up already? Just look." 

The bruise started around Johnny's sternum, with some discoloration around the ribs on either side. It wasn't as dark as Daniel had pictured. Still. 

"That looks pretty damn bad to me, tough guy." 

Johnny shrugged, "I've had worse."

Daniel didn't really want to examine that too hard, didn't want to think about the implications. He grabbed Johnny's wrist and guided it so that the ice pack steadily melting in his hands was pressed over the worst of the bruising. 

"Just keep the ice on it, alright? And put a shirt on, you weirdo!" 

"What? Why?" 

Daniel looked into Johnny's wide and guileless blue eyes and realized, oh no, he actually might just be that dumb.

"...Do you hang out with ANYONE besides your karate squad? Anyone at all?"

Johnny shrugged, with a look on his face that said he hadn't yet decided whether or not to be offended, "not usually." 

That explained a lot. 

That explained... just SO much, actually. 

Daniel flopped back on the bed, stretching out so that his feet came to rest just behind Johnny's jean pockets. 

"You really are something." 

Johnny wasn't looking at Daniel's face anymore, though. He was looking at Daniel's knee. Specifically, the bulky piece of hardware holding his knee together. Daniel's cut off jean shorts provided an easy line of sight to the contraption strapped around his leg. It was black, and hinged along the sides, with straps bracketing the damaged joint. Johnny gestured to the brace, "How's your leg?" 

"It's been better," Daniel said, all light and conversational. "To be honest, I can't really say I've had worse." 

Johnny grimaced. For a few moments the only sound was the occasional crinkling of the plastic bag holding the ice cubes as Johnny shifted his weight around, then-

"Can I... can I see?" 

"Can you see what?" 

Johnny's hand twitched indecisively, then came to hover just above Daniel's brace. 

"What I did to you." 

Oh.

Huh.

"I mean technically you only did half of it, your buddy-"

"Was my fault you were in the tournament in the first place," Johnny muttered. Well... it was hard to argue with that. 

"Sure, I guess. If you want to, you can see." Fair's fair he supposed, you show me yours I'll show you mine. Although, technically, Daniel hadn't really asked to see Johnny's. 

Daniel bent forward to undo the straps of his brace, but before he could there was a hand on his knee.

Daniel kicked up instinctively, falling backwards with a startled cry as his knee made contact with Johnny's nose. 

And oh fuck did that hurt- waves of pain rung out from his knee and resonated up the rest of his leg. He curled in on himself. Daniel choked and gasped around sounds of pain, biting his lower lip to keep from screaming. Through the sting of tears he could see Johnny doing the same, hands clasped over his face as he hissed in breath through his teeth. Daniel took a moment to appreciate the irony in the collision of two barely held wounds. 

There was a tentative wrap of knuckles against his bedroom door, "Daniel, honey, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Ma, Jesus!" He snapped back, "How many times do I gotta tell ya?" 

"Alright, alright!" She called. He waited until he heard the putter of her footsteps retreating back into the living room. Then he turned to Johnny, who was looking at him a little warily through the messy fringe of his bangs. 

"Sorry about that, but in my defense you gotta learn to warn a guy first. You alright?"

Johnny nodded, letting his hands drop back to his lap. His nose wasn't bleeding, at least. All in all he seemed no worse for the wear. "I'm fine, LaRusso. Stop fussing." 

"Yeah yeah, tough guy. You're invincible." Daniel rolled his eyes, "as long as you don't try to get even, alright? We all know how that went for you last time." 

Johnny's lip twitched into something that might almost have been a smile, "Funny, I remember you saying my friends could probably still beat you up." 

"No, your buddy told you that, YOU don't remember jack shit. YOU were in a coma."

"Was not in a coma," Johnny griped.

"Whatever you gotta tell yourself Sleeping Beauty." 

Sleeping beauty- Johnny mouthed the words to himself, borderline pouting as he puzzled the implications. Daniel couldn't help but laugh, which only made Johnny's face scrunch up further- a vicious cycle, really. 

"Quit it!" Johnny's face was edging on tomato red. He had clearly assumed he was being made the butt of the joke, and he didn't like it. To make matters worse he reached up, a bit self consciously, and touched his blonde hair, as if that might've been the problem. And really at that point how could Daniel help himself.

"Sorry, sorry!" He laughed, though he obviously wasn't. 

"Whatever. Can we just do this now?"

Do this? What- OH!

"My leg?" 

"Yeah." 

Obviously. Right. What else could he have been talking about, shirtless and tousled and sitting at the foot of Daniel's bed. Apparently this was just how Johnny Lawrence dressed when he wanted to compare battle scars.

Daniel stretched his leg out again, this time very deliberately planting his calf across Johnny's lap. He raised his eyebrows, an obvious challenge, "get on with it tough guy, we don't have all day."

"Right." 

"I'll warn you though, there might be a whole ecosystem under there that you aren't prepared for. I mean there's no way to wash that thing, you know? It just soaks up all the sweat- and this is California, man! It's not like-" 

"God, for like... once second, could you just be quiet." 

"Sure. I can manage. Look at me, currently shutting up." 

Johnny's hands, as big and calloused as they were, were surprisingly gentle as he moved them around the brace. Tentative, like he knew their potential for harm and was being very careful to avoid it. 

When the brace was off they both surveyed the damage. The swelling, and the map of bruises. Daniel looked at his leg with more curiosity than anything. He'd seen it as recently as this morning, there was nothing new there, but there was something about seeing the injury while the hands that caused it hovered on either side, unsure of what to do with themselves. 

Johnny, though, looked... 

His brows were drawn together, like he was concentrating, and Daniel had fight back a quip about not hurting himself. His shoulders were a tightrope string, taunt, and seeping tension. The guilt coming of of him was so thick Daniel was starting to drown in it. 

Cautiously, he brought one of his hands down and placed it on Daniel's knee. It spanned the entire length of the injury, coving the bruising from view. Daniel studied his knuckles, still a little pink but mostly healed. Someday the rest of their injuries would look like that too, and then they'd be gone. The only scars would be the memories. Maybe that's what Johnny had meant by "lucky". 

"I'm sorry," Johnny whispered, so quite he might not've meant for Daniel to hear it at all. And there was a lot Daniel could say to that. He could push, wheedle out a 'what for', part of him wanted to. But then Johnny's thumb started up, just above the knee. Back forth, back forth, just like Daniel had done over the back of his hand while sitting next to his hospital bed. 

So Daniel put his hand over Johnny's, leaned in close and said very seriously, "score me some of what you were smoking on Halloween, and we'll call it even."

Johnny laughed. A real laugh, not one at Daniel's expense or thrown in with a halfhearted smirk. A laugh that had him doubling over, and then wheezing when his ribs started to hurt.

And if Daniel thought he was beautiful, well... so what. He'd always had a thing for blondes.


End file.
